Journal Entry – July 7, 2005 – The Pamster Back in Papeete!

Author: Scott

I tossed and turned through the early morning of July 7, Pam was somewhere up in the air over the Pacific Ocean and although I had dutifully set my alarm for 0430, I was sure I would sleep through the dreaded rooster call alarm and Pam would be standing in the terminal with hundreds of pounds of luggage cursing me. So, I finally crawled out of the sack at 0415 and tried to get myself into a presentable condition for my airport appearance. I had no idea how to get a taxi at this early hour, but I figured the Le Truck would be running by 0500 to get people to work, since life starts so early here in the tropics. On my way to the Le Truck stop I stopped at the small corner walk-up café by the mall to find a cup of coffee. They were not quite open yet, but the nice lady behind the counter had pity on me and poured me a cup, pulled out all of the accoutrements, and then didn’t even charge me sine she did not have the cash register ready. Life was looking good, I got up on time and got free coffee! I wandered on down the street with Papeete coming alive before my eyes. Shopkeepers were pulling open their security grates, I could smell fresh bread baking, the first of the business people dressed in comfortable tropical attire were making their debut for the day, and a few strays coming home from a night of partying were creeping around. I walked right up to the Le Truck stop since Pam and I had already staked the stop out on our trip to find her ticket at DHL. There was a bus running and ready to go, so I paid my fare and stepped aboard with the confidence of a local. As the bus pulled into traffic it was just after 0500 and I was going to be right on time.

I arrived at the airport and headed straight to the reception area where all of the people meeting those on the airplane stand around and stare blankly at the foreboding and mysterious electric doors shrouded with opaque glass. Behind the doors are the spooky customs and immigration people waiting to pounce on and seize the luggage from our beloved ones. There was a distinct difference between me and the others waiting, they had flowered leis and I had nada, not ever a single flower. Even the little kids waiting were layered in fresh flowers. Where did they get them and how could I meet Pam without a lei? I quickly looked around and there was no visible source for the flowers. Could all of these people possibly think far enough in advance to buy a lei the prior day? I momentarily considered stealing a lay from the rack near where the tour companies corral their guests upon arrival. I had already scored free coffee; maybe I could plead my way into a free lei. Just then I had to abandon my plan as the magic passageway opened and passengers started spewing out looking haggard, ecstatic to see family and friends, and some full of energy to start their long awaited vacation. As the passengers poured out and the families rushed forward I had to duck, roll, squirm and slither to stay in the front so I could see Pam in the chaos. Me and a six year old were jockeying for a better position and of course the little beast had about fifty leis to greet her loved one with, brat! Thoughts of working a deal with the munchkin fluttered through my brain, “hey kid I will give you 500 francs for one of those leis”. The hoard kept on coming and coming. People greeting, lassoing each other with leis and there was lots and lots of that interesting kissy greeting thing that is common here in French Polynesia, where people bump each of their cheeks and make a kiss smack without actually sharing a single micro organism. Pam and I are still working on perfecting the kissy greeting. After countless people passed and were reunited the stream started to get a little thin and there was no Pam. Could this all be a sick joke to make me get up at 0430 and she would really roll in around noon? Did she miss her plane? No way, not Pam! Where oh where could little Pam be, oh where oh where could she be? Maybe she knew that I was leiless and didn’t want to face the humiliation of arrival with no flowers. Finally, the doors slid closed with finality, and there was just little old me standing there by myself with the tour people packing up. I just stood there transfixed in a trance staring at the wall of glass doors wondering what to do next when suddenly the door slid open and Pam came out with an official looking person in tow. “They can’t find one of my bags, and I forgot to bring my bond receipt, so they are going to keep my passport” she pelted at me. “I have to go back in, I will be back in a few minutes.” And then she was gone, back into the depths of the travel dungeon. Here I was worried about not having a lei and Pam was being held captive by the spooky Immigration people.

There was no place to sit so I just stood there looking like the last kid to get picked up from school, and I waited. Eventually Pam came out with a cart full of luggage looking surprisingly chipper for an immigration POW. Pam explained that Air France had in fact lost a piece of her precious luggage bursting with all of our treasured supplies from the States, and to make matters worse they kept her passport because she was arriving in Tahiti at the end of a round trip ticket with no proof of paying a bond. She would have to return immediately to the airport with proof to get her passport back. We found a taxi and piled Pam’s remaining ton of luggage inside and headed off to the boat. Pam was back! Back to a world of hauling your luggage onto a boat via a dinghy ride from the quay, back to a world where nothing she brought back would have an easy place to be stowed, back to a still broken engine, but she was back diving head first into the adventure.

We managed to get everything on board Tournesol and Pam wanted to show me what she brought back with her, minus the MIA 70 pound bag. When she was finished my lovely boat that I had worked so hard to prepare for Pam’s arrival looked like Christmas at the Brady Bunch house, we had great stuff everywhere. We sat back stuffing our faces with chocolate covered cashews and gooey black licorice from Trader Joe’s and Pam began to tell me about her whirlwind trip to the US. Soon we had to face the music and return to the airport to retrieve Pam’s passport being held hostage. Back to Le Truck! We got to the airport surprisingly quickly and were escorted into the inner sanctum of the Immigration Police. Pam showed her papers to the official and was quickly giver her passport. We were then escorted to the baggage office where we were told that the bag was not yet located on the computer and would probably arrive in the next few days. Of course we don’t have a phone so we had to settle for getting all of the office hours for the baggage office so we could call in for status reports. We asked if Air Frnce would be able to deliver the bag and if they would cover the cost of our extra taxi ride. Without a flinch we were told that the airline would like to offer us 1,800 CFP or about $200 for our inconvenience and all of a sudden the inconvenience wasn’t quite so bad as long as they find the bag.

We had lunch with a little of our lost luggage money and then returned to the boat for a well deserved nap. We slept amongst our peaches in vanilla sauce and stainless steel boat parts and the rest was heavenly. When we awoke it was time to get ready for the Heiva show. Poor Pam who was probably disoriented and jetlagged was going to have to rise to the occasion because we had tickets for a night of Tahitian song and dance. We met Gill and Trevor from Last Call over at James and Ann’s boat Novia and we were all decked out in our finest tropical duds. Just as we all greeted each other the light misting we had had that afternoon turned into real rain. The rain grew steady and we guessed the show was cancelled but decided to walk over to the theatre in the rain to see if it was rescheduled and to possibly get a refund if we could not attend on the rescheduled date. We learned that the show was rescheduled and that Gill and Trevor could not go that day due to a conflict. We talked it over with Ann and James and decided we would see the show on Sunday. We all walked back to the boats and Pam and I decided we would go eat at the trucks since the rain was letting up. We sat in the mist eating steamy stir fry and I got another chapter in Pam’s adventure in the states.